


You're Not What I'm Looking For

by ardor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Castiel, Bottom Dean, Demon Summoning, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Hunter Dean, Light Bondage, M/M, Older Castiel, Older Man/Younger Man, Possessive Castiel, Rough Sex, Spirit Castiel, Spirits, Sub Dean, Top Castiel, Virgin Dean, Wiccan Dean, Younger Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardor/pseuds/ardor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had only wanted to resurrect their dead cat, Molly, but instead he had a very powerful and pissed off spirit that looked like he was just about ready to rip Dean a new one with his blazing blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not What I'm Looking For

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my lovely friend [Ruby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/valcery)!  
> WARNING CAS IS KINDA A DICK

Dean had found the dusty old book in the attic of Bobby’s run down farm house. Written on the spine in cursive handwriting was;

Dean frowned, wiping the dust off the front cover. It had the symbol of a star with squiggly symbols and shapes that Dean didn't understand, but he'd seen his Dad draw similar things when he was interrogating a demon.

 _Wouldn't_ _’_ _t hurt_ _just to_ _look_ Dean shrugged, opening the heavy book to a random page.

The stained and weathered paper was filled with cramped handwriting, which looked like it was in a different language. There were dots and lines on top of letters Dean knew, while some looked like they were completely made up. There was diagrams of humans, blood and organs gruesomely drawn on the page, but Dean ignored them in favor of a silk pouch. 

“Aha!” Dean said triumphantly setting down the book on an old ratty sofa. He opened the satchel, peering inside.

There seemed to be some dry herbs of sort at the bottom. Picking some up between his thumb and forefinger, Dean gave the dried herbs a tentative sniff. Dean sneezed, then sneezed again and soon found himself in an uncontrollable sneezing fit. 

He had dropped the pouch somewhere on the ground and he was feeling slightly lightheaded. 

“Dean!” He heard Bobby’s gruff call from downstairs, “What you doin’up in the attic boy?”

“Nothing” Dean wheezed, haphazardly throwing a blanket over the book he had found. He didn't want Bobby finding out he was snooping in his stuff and telling Dad.

“Well come down then, dinner's getting cold! ”

“Coming” Dean shouted, closing up the attic with one last look at the spell book.

It was two whole weeks before Dean looked at book again.

It was a stinking hot day. Dad had dumped them at Bobby’s the morning before for a run of the mill Wendigo hunt.

Sam was somewhere hidden away with a book in his hand, Bobby was to tired to throw ball with Dean and he'd already explored all of Bobby’s junk yard and garage for anything cool. That only left two places for Dean to explore, his bedroom (which he highly doubted there was anything he hadn't already found) and the attic. 

Dean had almost forgotten the book even existed, and if it wasn’t for the fact he had basically sat on it, it would have been left undisturbed for god knows how long.

“What the heck” Dean grumbled rubbing his sore tailbone as he pulled away the blanket.

The book sat in the same place he had left it last time, seemingly waiting for him to find it again.

Shrugging Dean picked up the book, sitting down on the couch to open it up.

Dean sighed when once again the book looked like it was written in gibberish. God dammit, he was hot, bored and the only source of entertainment was an old book full of bullsh-

Dean squinted at the page in front of him, brows furrowing. It looked like one of the words spelt out, was that? _Eye of newt._

Dean saw another word he recognized, _crush_ , then another _sprinkle_ then suddenly like a veil was lifted from Dean’s eyes he could read and understand each and every word on the page

Dean sat, eyes wide, as he flicked through the pages, skimming over the cramped and messy handwriting.

Sticking out of one of the pages was a letter. Pulling it out, Dean began to read it out loud.

“Wiccan” Dean repeated frowning. He was sure he had heard his Dad say that word once… he shrugged reading on.

Dean snickered imagining himself performing a love spell on Sam,

“Blah blah blah, be careful, don’t aim a gun in anyone’s eye” Dean said sarcastically throwing the letter on the floor, “Lets see what I can get up to”

 

Three hours later Dean was lying on the attic floor watching a lone fly buzz lazily in front of him.

The book had ended up being boring as hell, the only interesting spells Dean could see was one that would turn Sam into a frog and something about a permanent rain cloud. The rest were about ‘possessing someone’s body and forcing them to do you’re bidding’or ‘how to curse someone and make them eat their own fingers off’and one that entailed the blood of a virgin and the carcass of a newborn infant child. Dean had shuddered and flipped to[1]  the next page without reading further.

The book was now thrown open across the floor beside Dean.

A cool breeze flowed through the stuffy attic. Dean let out a sigh of relief as it washed over him. He faintly heard the sound of rustling pages. Looking over, Dean saw that the wind had blown the pages of the book.

“How to commune with the Dead…” Dean said reading the bold heading on the page aloud, “Huh”

Pulling the book closer Dean read into it a bit more.

Dean sat there thinking of whom he could summon from the dead. _I'll be like that one dude from that really old black and white movie_ Dean thought, _the guy who made Frankenstein…or was that a chick?_

He could summon one of the many dead bodies buried around Bobby’s home, but he didn't want to risk them being a monster or anything else that could kill him, Bobby or Sam. He briefly thought of his Mom, but then realized they didn't have her remains. Wait, didn't Bobby used to own a cat? Like when Dean was seven or something.

A Mischievous smile on his face. Dean called out “Bobby!”

Bobby did in fact used to own a cat, Molly, and she was buried out back underneath one of Bobby’s dying apple trees.

“Why you asking’ boy?” Bobby asked sceptically.

“Nothin’ just curious” Dean said slyly.

“I kno’ something’s up Dean Winchester. I can see that cheeky look in your’ eyes.” Bobby said, pointing a finger at Dean, “Be careful,” He added softly, before turning back to whatever ancient text he was translating.

“And for god's sake don't break anything” 

“Thanks Bobby” Dean ran off with an impish grin on his face.

  

It took Dean about 20 minutes to find the tree Bobby was talking about. It was dead and willowing, the only thing that made it a look like it was once a tree was the rotten apples littering the ground.

Dean had seen his Dad dig grave countless times; hell Dean had even helped sometimes. But Dad made it seem so easy. After 15 minutes of non-stop digging Dean was about to call quits on finding the carcass of Molly, how his Dad did it he would never know, when he saw something brown and solid digging out of the little hole Dean was digging with his hands.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead and grinning from ear to ear he kept digging.

First he found what looked like a corner, then he found a lid and soon he had a cardboard box in his hands. Opening the lid Dean coughed as a cloud of dust hit in him the face, the foul stench of decay wafted upwards.

Molly’s bones were placed neatly inside, white skull and other smaller bones that Dean didn't know what they belonged to.

Covered head to toe in dirt, mud clumped together underneath Dean's fingernails and in in the wrinkles of his hands Dean walked back inside Bobby’s house with Molly's bones in the cardboard box, grinning like a mad man.

 

Dean couldn't find a black plate, so he spray painted one of Bobby’s old metal plates ‘jet black’ as the bottle was labelled. He had the rosemary and blood of a lamb, also wax unscented candles and the dust of a dead soldier's remains (Bobby wouldn't notice some rare remains missing from his supply). He substituted white chalk for a small pink stick of chalk Dean had found lying around Bobby’s basement.

With the items in hand Dean staggered up to the attic, earning a quizzical look from Sam who had his nose buried in some book called ‘Harry Potter’.

Dean grunted as he dumped all the items unceremoniously onto the couch, next to the book and the box of Molly’s remains.

Dusting his sweaty palms on his jeans Dean set to work.

With the book spread in front of him Dean picked up the pink chalk and made a wobbly circle in the middle of the room, brows furrowed and tongue peeking out as he tried to replicate to the best of his ability the odd squiggles and symbols surrounding the summoning circle.

Dean shrugged, good enough.

Next he put in the centre of the circle the black plate and put the candle on top. In a small bowl he poured the lamb's blood (grimacing as he did so) and dipped Molly's remains into it, like the book instructed.

Lighting the candle on the plate and spreading the dead man's ashes over Molly's now bloody remains Dean sat crossed legged in the centre on the circle. 

He burnt the rosemary, squinting at the text to make sure he was doing everything in the right order, and inhaled deeply before closing his eyes and chanting.

 _“O magnum Castiel spiritus mortuorum, commoda mihi auxilium, et conservata est.”_ He cracked open one eye, to see if anything had changed.

 _“Offero tibi vicissitudinem operum tuorum,”_ The candle flame started to wobble, a low rumble resonating through the house.

 _“Et sanguinem agni”_ The attic started to rattle, dust flying around the room as Dean sat in the circle eyes wide and panicking.

 _“Et voluntatem meam et peperisse. Dicens: Revertimini a tenebris ad lucem,”_ Dean was shouting now, the sound of the house shaking and things falling downstairs drowning out his chanting.

 _“Et esto ibi!”_ Suddenly everything stopped. The attic was eerily silent, dust particles floating in the air as Dean's heartbeat ran a mile a minute. He could hear Bobby swearing downstairs.

Dean slowly sat up, legs trembling as he looked around the attic.

It looked exactly the same, expect for a few fallen objects and broken glass.

Dean felt underwhelmed somewhat, he had expected a huge flash of light and a cloud of smoke and then maybe Molly the cat would suddenly be alive! But instead it looked as if nothing had happened, Molly’s remains were still lying in the floor in the circle untouched and nothing had exploded.

Maybe Dean messed up the ritual somehow…

Castiel was lying on a sunny beach somewhere in Rio de Janeiro. The sand was white, the water turquoise and he had two _beautiful_ Brazilian women beside him.

“Time for some fun ladies” He said, taking off his sunglasses to smile wryly at the two beautiful women.

Suddenly he felt it, an almighty _tug_ on his very being, it had been quite some time since he had felt this kind of tug. The last time something like this had happened was somewhere around the 18th century. 

The lovely beach view was sucked from him, like a vacuum sucking up a painting and Castiel floated into a black void.

“For god's sake” He muttered, rolling his eyes.

Castiel was tugged forward, more like _dragged_ actually, towards an unknown destination. He had forgotten how much of a pain in the ass getting summoned was.

A light was forming in front of him, slowly growing larger and larger, like reaching the end of a tunnel and as Castiel passed through it he found himself in the dusty dank attic of some poor saps house. 

Castiel was perched in the corner of the stuffy room, his eyes roaming uninterested over his surroundings. After more than a decade of not being summoned his first gig is to some stale attic filled with old books and cardboard boxes.

Great.

Someone moved in his peripheral vision, Castiel’s head snapping in that direction as power crackled in the air.

Castiel cocked his head to the side, folding his arms over his chest as he studied the young (he looked to be only 15, 16) year old boy.

He was standing in the middle of an absolute _joke_ of a summoning circle. For one it was made with _pink chalk_ for god’s sake, it was wobbly and looked more like an oval at best and the symbols looked like a 5 year old tried to draw them. He was surprised the thing even managed to summon him. The boy must have a heap of soul magic stored in him.

Castiel squinted his eyes watching as the boy looked around the room wildly, his breath harsh and cheeks flushed.

“God dammit” He heard the boy mutter, turning back to the spell book that was lying in the circle with him. 

Castiel was honestly bewildered as to how the boy managed to pull this stunt off. His summoning circle looked like a whale, the spell book was in the circle with him and the god damned plate wasn't even black, it was _spray painted_ black and he hadn't even set a trap to capture Castiel after he was summoned. The boy should have died trying something like this.

He wasn't an easy spirit to summon (if he did say so himself) and if it was it any other of his kin that was summoned the only thing left of the boy would be a red splat on the ground.

The teen furrowed his brows sticking his tongue out slightly through his plump lips as he flicked through the pages, green eyes a darting across the page.

Castiel hummed. What _should_ he do? He could always just kill the child, and it wouldn't be too hard.

He looked over at the green-eyed boy, sweat was gathering on his brow and his freckled cheeks were flushed from the stuffy attic. Castiel idly wondered how that blush would look traveling down the boy’s chest. Would it match the red that his cock would be, flushed and begging for the supernatural being's attention.

Castiel’s cock gave a twitch in his pants. It _had_ been a long time since he had been with a man, maybe it would do good to teach the boy a _lesson._

_ _

Maybe he had missed a step, or said a word wrong?

Dean was so engrossed in the spell book he didn't even know someone was behind him until he felt hot breath skating across his exposed neck.

Dean yelped (a very manly yelp thank you very much) and spun around, silver blade that he always had on him in hand.

A man stood behind him, cocky grin plastered on his face as his glowing blue eyes shamelessly roamed over Dean's body. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks. 

Dean didn't know how (maybe the fact that the guy just _appeared_ in Bobby's attic inside his warded house) but there was something… _off_ about the man, a kind of power that Dean could taste in the air.

“How did you get in?” Dean demanded, mentally running through the steps his Dad had taught him if he ever came face to face with a monster. 

  1.        Never turn your back on one
  2.        Never lower your weapon
  3.        Shoot first ask questions later



Confusion flashed across the man's face for a split second before it was smoothed out again to his cocky and calm demeanour

“I would've thought you'd know that since _you_ were the one who summoned me” God how did someone even have a voice that low.

“What?” Dean said, grip loosening on the blade as he furrowed his brows at the man, “I didn't summon you I was trying to talk to Molly”

“You mean that pile of bones you call a cat” The creature said looking distastefully at Molly's remains.

“Hey! There was nothing else dead lying around the house _sorry_ I couldn't raise Marilyn Monroe back from the dead” Dean mentally slapped himself. _Way to go Winchester talking sass to a being that could probably kill you with a click of his fingers._

The creature's blue eyes seemed to pulse with power, his mouth set in a hard thin line as he squinted at Dean.

_Oh great, you pissed him off._

Then he suddenly cracked a smile, laughing softly as he walked a slow and deliberately circle around Dean like a predator stalking its prey.

Castiel had his work cut out for him today. This _boy_ wasn't even trying to summon him; he was trying to communicate with the dead, well a dead _cat_ at that.

He had been lucky. One of his kind didn't come across someone with this much potential every day, with the right training and discipline this teenager could be a great asset to Castiel. Plus he had a pair of lips that looked like they were _born_ to be stretched around a huge cock.

The boy tracked his every move as he walked around the circle, the silver blade raised and his eyes had a glint in them that Castiel had seen enough times to recognize as the look of frightened prey.

Castiel bent down to pick up the spell book, reading over the pages with a boring look about him.

“Here” he said, startling the boy, “This word right here says _summoning_ instead of _communing”_

“W-What?”

Castiel rolled his eyes, “You misread the page, and see…” He held out the book for the boy to see “you also said my name while you were chanting 

The teenager frowned, “Wait you're name is Castiel?”

Castiel twirled his fingers, blue eyes glowing in mirth “Amongst others like, bringer of death, oh great one. Oh! This is my favourite; _angel of sorrow_ , it has a quite poetic feel to it don't you think”

_Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. He was_ screwed. 

Not only did he _not_ summon Molly from the dead but also instead he had apparently summoned the ‘angel of sorrow’. 

 _What would his Dad do?_  

“Hey!” The spirit snapped, “I asked you a question _boy”_

“M’not a boy” Dean said automatically, all the colour draining from his face as soon as the words had left his mouth.

Castiel slowly walked towards Dean, the heavy steps of his expensive dress shoes echoing around the empty attic. Dean’s heartbeat raced. _Now he had done it._

With a flick of Castiel’s wrist the spell book, Molly’s remains and the plate with a candle flew across the room clattering in a corner.

Dean gulped heavily.

Castiel loomed over him. He paused, inches away from Dean’s face, his breath skating over the teenager’s sensitive flesh with every word he spoke, “Then what should I call you… _boy_?”

“D-Dean” He stuttered and even though he had a silver knife inches away from the creature's neck and could easily plunge it in and end its life he felt so small and powerless.

Castiel smiled, suddenly pulling back out of Dean’s personal space as he stepped back, looking lazily over Bobby’s attic with its old artefacts and odd bits lying around.

“You're a hunter right?”

Dean froze “H-how did you-“

“Oh come on Dean” Castiel said rolling his eyes, “When you have been around for as long as I have you pick up on a few things here and there.”

A silence hung between them, Castiel squinting at a particle of dust floating in the sunlight as Dean sat dumbly on the floor, gripping his silver blade tight like it was his only lifeline.

“You know I was very occupied when you summoned me. 

Dean opened his mouth about to argue that it was an accident when Castiel sent him a sharp look telling him to _shut-up and listen_.

“I was laying on a beach in brazil these two _beautiful_ women basically _begging_ me to have some fun with them”

Dean’s eyes fell the floor awkwardly a blush rising on his cheeks making him feel flush in the already stuffy room. God he was acting like a blushing virgin, pull it together!

“Then I was brought here” Castiel said gesturing bitterly to Bobby’s dank attic, “hardly fair don’t you think”

“No” Dean mumbled. 

“What are you going to give me in return?” Castiel said suddenly.

“What?” Dean said, head snapping up. 

“I said” Castiel said rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he walked closer to Dean.

“What”

One step closer.

“Are”

Another.

“You”

He was standing right in front of Dean now the hairs of his fringe tickling Dean’s forehead.

“Going to give me in return?” He whispered.

Dean felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Castiel was still leaning into Dean’s personal space and as if in a trance Dean turned his head, dry lips grazing Castiel's own sending a shock of electricity down his spine.

Dean’s silver blade clattered to the ground as Castiel roughly shoved Dean down on the wooden floor his body draping over the young boys as he held his hands over his head, pinning them by the wrists. 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, whining as Castiel licked a long stripe up from Dean’s shoulder to his jawline.

“Tantalizing” Castiel, mumbled, thumbing both of Dean's nipple through his rough singlet causing the boy to gasp in surprise, “and sensitive I see” Castiel added with a devious glint in his eyes.

“N-never” Dean mumbled, an embarrassed blush on his cheeks. 

Castiel laughed, a full body laugh that made him look less of a very powerful being who had mood swings worse than a teenager and could rip his skin from bone and more of a normal human being. “Don't worry sweetheart I know” he chucked patting Dean playfully on the cheek.

Dean blushed harder.

Castiel shoved his tongue into Dean’s mouth, the young teen moaning in surprise as Cas traced the roof of Dean's mouth, mapping and dominating him before sucking on his tongue causing Dean’s eyes to roll back into his head, little breathy moans being punched out of his gut when Castiel pulled back for breath. 

He had kissed other girls his age, Christy Young had been a young senior who had a nice rack and hippy parents that let Dean touch her breast as they kissed and one time he made out with one of Dad’s hunter buddies daughter Amber. But it felt pale and sloppy compared to the way Castiel kissed like he owned him.

Dean licked his lips, Castiel tasted like cinnamon and a coppery taste that Dean knew from personal experience was blood. The thought sent a little shiver down Dean’s spine, he knew it shouldn’t have. 

Castiel cocked his head to one side, eyes raking hungrily over his body, small predatory smile gracing his lips.

Dean’s singlet was pushed up to his armpits, nipples red and peaking begging for attention as the teens abdomen spasm in pleasure. Dean closed his eyes, eyebrows drawn together in pleasure as he breathed heavily.

Castiel pushed down on Dean’s arms pulling them taut over his head, using a bit of his magic to keep them in place as he traced his fingertips over Dean’s chest.

Dean’s mind was whirling. I mean he had jerked himself off rough and quick in the shower a few times when Dad was out and Sammy was too busy reading up on some lore to notice if he stayed in the shower a minute longer than usual. He was a 15-year-old boy for god’s sake. But it had _never_ felt like this, never felt like there was liquid fire pooling in his stomach that made his knees quake.

He tried to tug at his wrists, but he couldn't get them free. Opening his eyes he peered at Castiel. The being was straddling Dean’s waist, a devious glint in his eyes as he twirled one finger in the air whispering Latin words lowly under his breath.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell was going on when he felt the phantom brush of feathers against his nipples. His protests turned into a deep moan as he squirmed. The cold brush of a feather traced its way down Dean's happy trail, his hips bucking as he thrashed around. It was too much, he…he couldn’t-

“You look so beautiful like this Dean” Castiel growled, “Squirming underneath me”

“Please” Dean whined, he didn't even know what for but he just needed something to push him off the edge he was hanging on.

“You want to be my little cockslut don't you?”

Dean nodded.

“Say it” Castiel growled, pulling on Dean’s hair roughly.

“ _Yes_ ” Dean gasped, “I want to be you're cockslut, want you're huge cock” He didn’t even know if he was saying the right thing, only imitating things he had heard moaning women pant when he watched the more intense porn videos when he was curious.

“That’s it” Castiel moaned, unzipping his pants to take out his leaking dick giving it a few slow strokes.

Dean’s eyes widened when he saw Castiel take out his cock. He had never seen another guys dick before, and Castiel’s was _massive,_ the tip red and wet as it slid in and out of Castiel’s foreskin. He gulped heavily; _I wonder what it tastes like…_

Dean strained forward; as far as he could go while his hands were bound above his head and gave Castiel’s cock a tentative lick.

Castiel threw back his head and moaned when Dean gave the tip of his cock a little kitten lick. 

Dean felt a weird warm feeling growing in his chest as Castiel moaned. He was making this powerful being feel good, he was being _good_ he wasn't fucking up somehow or making Castiel feel disappointed in him.

With some newfound confidence Dean sucked the tip into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks as he lightly licked the slit like a lollypop, gagging slightly at the bitter taste that exploded in his mouth.

“That’s it” Castiel groaned out watching the teen desperately try to take more of his cock into his mouth his bound hands preventing more than just the tip to slip between his stretched lips, “Love taking my dick in your mouth don't you?” 

Dean bobbed his head slightly, like he had seen girls do in porn videos accidentally nicking Castiel’s foreskin with his teeth.

Castiel hissed in pain, pulling his dick out of Dean’s wet mouth to give it a few more quick strokes before he was coming, painting Dean’s face in long white stripes.

Dean gasped in surprise when he felt the first load of come hit his face before he groaned deeply. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he did but when Castiel spread his come all over Dean’s face and chest coating two of his fingers in it to shove into Dean’s mouth as he sucked them clean he couldn't care less.

Castiel growled possessively as he rubbed his spent over Deans face; his flushed cheeks, peaking nipples. All his. He shoved two of his fingers in the teen’s mouth purring in pleasure when the boy licked them clean.

“My perfect little cockslut”

Dean preened at the praise, eyes widening when he felt wetness spread in his boxers. Castiel seemed to notice too because his eyes darkened a shade small smirk growing on his face. Oh no, he did _not_ just come in his pants.

Castiel twirled his fingers, his eyes pulsing blue for a moment before they return back to their stormy blue colour.

Dean gasped as he felt his fly lower, jeans sliding down his thighs to pool at his ankles without him or Castiel touching them.

Castiel knew he was showing off now. But hey, cut him some slack, it had been a long time since he had used his powers for some fun in the sack and the way the boy subconsciously submitted to Castiel’s soul power display made it all the more sweeter.

Dean's boxers had a huge wet patch at the front, Castiel humming at such a young thing to come in his boxers like the teenager he is, untouched as well. How did he score such a find?

Castiel spread the teens legs, setting them in place with a little bit of his magic so that the teen was spread wide, unable to move and completely helpless to whatever Castiel wanted.

Creating a bottle of lube out of nowhere Castiel massaged Dean's tight hole with the pad of one slick finger dipping in only slightly to test the teens resistance.

Dean’s dick was already awake and ready for another round as soon as the older man's finger traced his hole. He had _never_ touched himself down there, maybe thought about it once or twice in the middle of the night but never got the courage to actually go to town.

“Holy Shit” Dean whispered when Castiel dipped the tip of his finger into his hole. He never knew he could feel so _much_ down there, every catch on his rim like a zip of lightning up his spine. 

Castiel pressed surprisingly chaste kisses to Dean's nipples as he slowly pushed his finger in to the knuckle wriggling it around to watch Dean's mouth fall open in an O shape.

“C-Cas” Dean stuttered. He felt full, filled the brim and about to burst. It was kinda uncomfortable…but not as uncomfortable as breaking your arm or getting knocked into a tree by a werewolf.

Castiel pushed in another finger a bit too fast. Dean winced at the pain of not being stretched enough. 

“Feel so tight” Castiel whispered, almost to himself as he watched his fingers slide in and out of Dean’s hungry hole while he slowly jerked himself off to the sight.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Cas start to scissor him. Little hitches of breath every now and then as he tugged desperately at his straining arms and spread legs, he- he wanted to _touch_ Castiel, so bad that he felt it like a physical pain.

When Cas had deemed him prepped enough he held Dean's chin roughly in the palm of his hands.

“Open your eyes Dean” He commanded Dean just whining trying to shove himself back onto Cas erection like a bitch in heat.

“ _Look at me_ ” Castiel growled.

Dean slowly cracked open his eyes, peering at Cas.

“Good boy” Castiel purred pushing the sweaty hair out of the teen's face.

Castiel lined his cock to Dean’s hole, just letting the tip sit in the tight wet heat.

“You are _mine_ Dean” Castiel growled, blue eyes pulsing with barely concealed power as he slamming into Deans hole hitting the boys prostrate with frightening precision.

Dean knew what fucking was, had heard the pants and moans from behind thin motel walls and seen it in porn.

But _actually_ _fucking_ was a whole other story.

Castiel's thrusts were brutal and precise, Dean squirming in place, as he was helpless to set the pace. It hurt kinda, riding on the edge of pleasure and pain that blurred with each of Cas thrust.

Castiel brushed Dean’s prostate again, the boy jerking as he moaned loudly.

“W-What is.. _ah right there, hah…_ that?” Dean panted. 

“That’s the prostate Dean” Castiel whispered into Dean's ear, slowing his pace to drag his cock slowly over his prostate.

Dean gasped cursing lowly as his whole body lit up in pleasure. 

Then Castiel touched Dean’s dick, giving it a few rough strokes before growling in his ear, “Come for me Dean” and he was _gone_ riding the most intense orgasm he had ever had as Castiel fucked him through it.

Dean closed his eyes, a cooling sticky mess on his stomach. He barely registered Castiel cursing before he was coming himself, warmth spreading in his hole making him make a face.

Castiel felt power surging through him, little blue sparks coming out of his fingertips as he tried to keep it all in. He had forgotten how much power an orgasm gave him, he felt like he could take on God himself. 

He roughly pulled out of the teen’s sloppy hole, tucking himself back in and releasing Dean from his restraints with a click of his fingers.

He paused, looking over at Dean flushed and heading, nipples red and swollen, hair sweaty and plastered onto his forehead. He looked absolutely _fucked._

Castiel turned away, walking a few paces before he heard a soft “Wait!” 

Dean tried to sit up, tried to make Castiel stop by reaching out for the powerful being because he couldn't, he couldn't _leave_ Dean.

He saw Castiel turn around slowly, Dean panting as he stared at Castiel arm raised to try and reach out for him as the supernatural spirit stared back at Dean, totally cool and unaffected by their activities eyes, emotionless. 

“Take me with you” He whispered looking up at the man who had taken something he could never get back with pleading eyes.

Castiel smirked, chuckling darkly like he thought something was funny before turning away. 

“Goodbye Dean” Was the last thing the teen heard before Castiel was gone with a click of his fingers, leaving Dean boneless on the attic floor, shirt around his armpits and pants around his ankles with a cooling puddle of come on his stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, ok so I was SUPER pumped to share this fic with you guys!! This is probably my favourite fic that I have written. There is going to be a part 2 coming along, also a part two of my other fic [Late Bloomer](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3709720) but dont expect one any time soon as I have unfortunetly been hit with a case of procastination and just cant find the motive to write, BUT ANOTHER PART OF COMING OK OK
> 
> Stay Cool!! (wow ok that sounded really nerdy never using that again)  
> Criticism = Gold, please tell me what you thought and kudos and do all the thangs you do.  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mishakaIeins) Come say Hola!


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